Love not the music of your own voice, Merio had once instructed. Love the music of your opponent’s. Wait. Listen. And then, Cazzetta had added, wait a little longer. Draw the silence as you would a hunting bow. Draw it until it sings with tension and desperation to break, let it tremble there, desperate for release. Love that silence, for it is your friend. If you are patient, if you wait, a false man will often reveal himself into that silence.
